


Fate

by whiteleander



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Destiny, Explicit Language, F/M, Fate, Karma - Freeform, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky Barnes, Robbery, Soulmates, but don't worry everything will be fine, i just wanted to tag it, im really proud of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 15:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7320061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteleander/pseuds/whiteleander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I do not claim that 'Out of the Black' by Royal Blood is indeed the OST of this fic, but it reminded me of the story when I was listening to the song the other day, so still, I just wanted to mention it. Don't mind me tho.

****“Are you freaking kidding me?!” I think when I painfully have to realise that the bus I am sitting on, supposed to be heading home, is in fact going in the wrong way.

 

But this is my bus, the one I always take, and even the bus driver is the same, why is he going in a different direction now?

 

I pull out my earphones, and walk up to the driver, asking “Excuse me, where are we heading?”

 

My question must shock and amuse him, although his response kind of shocks me more, and it isn't amusing at all: I have to come to the conclusion that somehow my usual ride home is on a different route today, I was just too deep in my own thoughts to actually check the info panel that shows the course.

 

I got on the bus automatically because I saw the same vehicle and same driver and I thought it must've been my regular bus, but now I'm just standing in here, getting farther and farther away from the bus stop, and my actual bus home has surely left by know.

 

I sigh as I politely ask the driver after he enlightened me and told me the direction of travel. “Can I get off at one point?”

 

“Of course.” And he pulls over at the next stop.

 

I get off the bus in my shame, trying to ignore people giving me looks and I start walking back to the bus stop. It's an hour until the next bus comes, so actually I have a lot of time right now, I might as well just take it slow and enjoy the sunshine.

 

I start listening to music again, when minutes later the sun eventually disappears behind a bunch of angry-looking, dark blue-grey clouds and it starts raining—actually it's pouring down quite heavily and my trousers are soaking wet in seconds.

 

“Don't be shittin’ me!” I look up to the sky, trying to see if any god is actually looking down at me from up there, having the time of their boring immortality screwing me up so much today. But all I see is flashing lightning above, and it's rather scary since I don't even have an umbrella with me. I abruptly unplug my earphones, turn of the music and put my phone into my backpack in order to save it from getting wet.

 

“It's okay, that my job is awful, I can take that because I need to make a living somehow… It's okay that I'm having one of those shittiest days, I can get through them once in a while. But it's not okay at all for the whole world turning against me and showering me with all kinds of bullshit one after another!” I mumble grumpily, trying to find a shelter from the heavy rain but the raindrops falling down are actually so big and so cold that they hurt my eyes and skin as they're hitting me, and I can't even see where I'm going.

 

Hoping that this crazy rain will eventually stop, I keep raiding the streets when I notice a strange alley that shouldn't be where it is.

 

“No fucking way,” I cry out as I'm looking around—the rain might have eased for now, it's only a light shower but it seems I eventually got lost somehow, because I can't seem to recognise this part of the city.

 

Fear rumbles in my tummy as I try to go back to where I came from, but I only go deeper in the not-so-friendly-looking and narrow alley, until I notice a man.

 

He's sitting on the ground behind a large trash container, all scruffy and his clothes seem worn and torn. He's got a dark stubble, face looking quite dirty and I sure have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

 

That's until he eventually raises his head and looks me in the eye, steely blues studying my every inch, his eyebrows knitting together as he's analysing me, then he looks away and continues gazing at something either on the ground or in his lap.

 

Seems like he's not interested in me being here at all, which should totally make me feel relieved, and I should just turn around and try to go back to the bus stop, but somehow I just can't go and leave. Oddly, I just feel  _drawn_ to him.

 

“Excuse me?” I take a small step forward, trying to initiate a conversation, but he seems absolutely disinterested.

 

Or maybe he's deaf or doesn't speak English.

 

“Do you know what place this exactly is, I'm kinda lost…” And with admitting this, I might have just signed my death penalty. Who knows, maybe it's just a setup and he's luring me into a trap.

 

I look around carefully and sneakily, hoping that he wouldn't notice that I'm checking out my surroundings in search for any weird guys hiding around. But after the rain stops and the sun is shining through the dispersing clouds, and birds are signing and chirping again, it's all quiet and calm, almost lovely, and that typical rain scent smelling all around which I always loved.

 

“Try to go back to where you came from.” Hearing his low and quite coarse voice almost makes me pee in my panties, though.

 

(No one would actually notice if I did that, as I kind of look like someone who's been in a washing machine for twenty minutes for some reason…)

 

On the other hand, his advice slightly angers me, since I already thought of that and I tried to do that, to no avail.

 

But one lost, lonely and fucking terrified little girl just doesn't confront his only source of help, right?

 

“Umm, the thing is, I tried that but my navigation skills are pretty below zero…” I let out an anxious giggle, and his eyes are on me again.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't help you.” Looking at him more carefully, I suddenly realise that he must be in a lot of pain, having his right arm resting next to his body, all limb like he can't really move it. There are small scratches and little wounds on his face, and now I realise that his clothing is just… _Damn. Strange_.

 

There's some weird costume under his scruffy clothes—it's like he just took on the first things he saw in a trash bin and his own clothes are hidden beneath them—and I swear something is going on with his left arm: it's like the sunshine gets reflected on it where there are holes on the sleeve of his sweater, and it weirdly reminds me of _metal_.

 

“ _Oh fuck, I just bumped into a crazy serial killer._ ”

 

It's like he can eventually read my thoughts, because he covers himself with a holey blanket that was already around him, just slipped down on the ground from his shoulders, hiding his clothes and himself under.

 

I don't know who this stranger is, but he rather looks like a stray puppy than a psychopath waiting for his daily victim.

 

My anger about my misfortune today and fear of being assaulted eventually get replaced with pity and I start feeling sorry for this weird creature. But he just doesn't look at me anymore, and in fact, he's doing his best ignoring my presence so I don't have any other choice than turning around and go away, right?

 

Yep, that'd be the smart thing, but I never really considered myself a smart person, and I never could just close my eyes and not try to help when someone was in need.

 

Because fuck, I even pick up the trash on the streets and put them back into the trash bin, I'm just naive and dreamy like that, hoping for a better world.

 

So despite the warning voices silently screaming in my head, I just go up to him slowly, reaching for my wallet in my pocket and hand him all the money I’ve just taken out of the bank.

 

“Please, take it.” I'm standing right above him and he actually looks just so fragile, even though he must be taller and older than me for sure. He doesn't move, just looks up at me in confusion, with his mouth left open I can clearly see his perfectly white teeth.

 

_Strange. How comes a homeless person’s got such nice teeth?_

 

How he's looking at me for long minutes now trying to dig into my soul through my eyes—I suppose he doesn't understand why I'm helping him—and the awkward silence really make me embarrassed and I end up actually blushing, so I lean down, put the money on the ground next to him (while doing so I realise that he smells like fresh rain and blood) then stand up and turn around to leave him on his own.

 

“Thank you.” His voice follows me, eventually making me stop. I look back at him above my shoulder, and smile.

 

“You're welcome.”

  


“But what if you getting on the wrong bus and ending up being in that alley meeting that man was _fate_?” My best friend remarks a few hours later when I'm with her in our shared apartment.

 

This idea of hers just shakes me a little, I just didn’t think about today's events in a sense like that. I sure read horoscopes and all sorts of magical personality traits, and I may believe in some esoteric stuff but _destiny_? No, thank you.

 

“You shouldn't have left him like that!”

 

“Are you completely insane?” I snap a little more harshly than I meant to.

 

“But you said he was hot…”

 

“I said his eyes were pretty,” I correct her, blushing a little though, because I might have thought that he was quite _handsome_ at some point. “He could've been an assailant and you just shouldn't romanticise that. I could be dead by now.”

 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, lips curving downward. She always pulls that apologetic face, pouting and being on the edge of tears, and she always gets me with it. “But just think about it!” She still insists. “Karma. Karma is never wrong.”

 

A long, tired sigh comes out of my throat, and I think it's better if I just leave her there and go to have a decent shower to warm up my cold body.

 

“Well, we're never gonna meet again, so destiny sure misses me,” I argue on my way out of the living room.

 

“BUT—” I can hear my best friend starting a long-ass rant behind me, but I luckily reach the bathroom and lock myself in there for the upcoming 45 minutes.

  
  


I didn't want to believe that some weird people are pulling strings somewhere, making things happen, control everyone's lives and getting certain people together so they can live happily ever after as a couple.

 

But in fact, I happened to meet my exotic stranger on several occasions, and after the first two ones, I was becoming rather suspicious.

  
  


“I told you I don't have money with me!” I shout, hoping that somebody not just hears me and not just walks by without any interruptions, having their heads fixated on the ground and pretending I'm not being mugged over here.

 

“Bullshit!” My attacker spits. “You're so pretty. You're wearing pretty clothes. You've a pretty backpack—you must be rich as fuck!” He grabs my arm, trying to drag me deeper into the alley, and my leg moves instinctively and I find myself kicking him on the groins.

 

At least I was _trying_ to do that, but he just blocked my moves and is holding down both of my arms, shoving me to the wall. He's looking at me _just like that_ , eyes filled with lust, and as he licks his bottom lip, I can feel my tummy flinch and I'm on the verge of puking.

 

“You don't have money? Fine. You can give me somethin’ else tho.” And he's leaning down to trying to kiss me, and I scream internally, pressing my lips together and clenching my whole body, hoping that I can put him off with my strong disgust and having no consent at all, when someone evidently steps next to us, and my mugger is gone in seconds.

 

I open my eyes and I see him being thrown across the alley—he actually lands on the top of a trash container and slides down on the ground. I can't believe someone really helped me, and when I look at my real life superhero to thank him, my heart literally stops.

 

“You?!” Air stucks in my throat as I'm staring into fierce, steely blue eyes that I could recognise everywhere. I notice the surprise and the recognition in his eyes too. He's looking at me in awe, it's like he just can't really believe that we meet again, then—

 

“Fuck you, you bitch.” My attacker seems to slowly recover from having been thrown several meters across the air, he stands up, looking at us with hatred, pulling a large knife out, and I'm literally shaking.

 

 _He's gonna kill us all_.

 

I look up at my saviour and seeing his stern face I get frightened in a different way—it's just his aggression hangs around in the air, all chilly, and I swear I can feel his rage on my skin.

 

He slowly walks up to the man who was assaulting me, and I can sense menace from every single one of his moves.

 

“Watch out!” I shout as the mugger puts his arm in the air and shoves his knife into my saviour’s left arm…

 

There's a sharp and high-pitched scratching noise.

 

...only to have the blade of the the knife be cut in half?!

 

“What the ff—” The idiot doesn't have much time to wonder, he's grabbed by the neck and raised up in the air. The guy must be at least 90 kilos but my saviour easily holds him with one arm only. “Who the hell are you?”

 

“It's a question I often ask myself as well,” my saviour replies, then he throws my attacker onto the trash container again. The mugger doesn't have time to recover this time, because my blue-eyed stray puppy hero is actually a blue-eyed raging aggressor now, eventually beating the shit out of him.

 

I run to them, because I just can't look at them anymore, and grab my saviour’s arm, begging “Stop! Don't kill him, please!”

 

“He wanted to hurt you,” he hisses under his breath. “He would have if I hadn't been here by chance.”

 

“I know, but please. His blood on your hands—it's not worth it.”

 

“There's plenty of blood on my hands,” he snaps, eyes twinkling with anger and disgust…

 

Could it be self-hatred and despising himself rather than this criminal who was trying to mug me and rape me?

 

“I let him live,” he breathes then, almost inaudible, and he really lets go of the half dead man, who just falls on the ground looking like shit and covered in his own blood, and I'm not sure if I'm relieved or just made the stupidest decision in my life. “But remember, he may try it once again and I won't be around then.”

 

And he really hadn't been around for months.

 

He escorted me home after I called the police and the ambulance from a public phone booth so no one could trace my actual location and my own phone. And when I was standing in front of the door, my shaking hand on the door knob, almost ready to enter the building where I was living, I suddenly turned around to look at him and thank him once again, but he was just gone, like a ghost.

 

Until he just appeared out of the blue again.

  
  


“Thank you for your kindness,” the beggar smiles at me after I've given him a little money on a sunny morning. It wasn't much, and I wish I could do more.

 

“You just can't help yourself giving away your money to strangers, can you?” A very familiar voice comes from behind, sending weird chills down my spine as I'm walking to work a few moments later. I turn around, and my heart literally stops as I see the same stranger, steely blue eyes shining down at me for the first time in three months.

 

He looks different this time, though, his stubble still unshaven, hair a bit shorter and much more taken care of, the brown locks hidden under a black cap. He's wearing causal clothes too, looking all clean and _normal_ , and I wonder if he managed to buy all this on the money I gave him a few months ago or maybe he eventually got through his difficulties and is no longer on the streets anymore?

 

Those steely blue eyes wandering on me, I can feel myself blush, and that small smile lying in the corner of his mouth just makes my heart stop.

 

_Well, he really is handsome. Gorgeous, I'd say._

 

“I just love helping people,” I shrug in my embarrassment. “The world is so full of cruelty and sad things, I just wish I could do something to make it a better place. Even it's just giving a few pennies to the unfortunate and homeless.”

 

Nicely done monologuing, because now he's surely looking at me like I'm a moron.

 

Except he's actually not.

 

“Sorry, I just… I know I'm weird.”

 

“No, it's… I _like_ how kind-hearted you are.” And this is ridiculously the best compliment I've ever received.

 

“Uhh, thanks,” I mumble under my breath, strongly trying to avoid looking at him. While turning my head around, I spot something across the street, and I just completely lose it.

 

“Umm, would you mind…” He's knitting his sexy eyebrows— _Oh boy, I'm getting on dangerous tides calling him sexy_ —suddenly getting all paranoid and anxious, and I almost swallow down my words.

 

Almost.

 

“Do you wanna grab a cup of Starbucks?” There I am, actually asking a guy out first. It's not that hard actually, I just feel like my life expectancy got ten years shorter.

 

The nameless stranger is staring at me with big, clueless eyes, then I nod my head in the direction of Starbucks.

 

“I guess I should've asked if you wanna grab a drink or something.” It's so odd that he's looking at me like I'm just talking gibberish, or someone who's just fallen on Earth from a different dimension, not knowing anything at all.

 

“But I still owe you the money, now you wanna spend more on me?”

 

“You invite me for a pizza or an ice cream some another time.” I just cannot fucking believe I'm being this brave and reckless asking an older guy on another dates when he didn't even say yes to the first.

 

He looks hesitant first, then he eventually nods.

 

“So do you want anything else or just a coffee?” I ask, lining in the queue later. It's almost our turn to order and he's just damn silent and I start panicking not knowing what to order.

 

“The same as you,” and with that, he just gave me full authority and I kinda feel like a parent.

 

Not so later we're drinking our Vanilla Latte in a nearby park. Munching on my blueberry muffin, slyly watching him from the corner of my eye as he's studying the bakery product in his hand, not sure if he should take a bite or just throw it away in the closest bush because it's looking suspicious.

 

He then eventually takes a bite of it, and I swear I've never been more close to having a heart attack in my life.

 

“What do you think?” I enquire, totally hiding my excitement for getting to know what he thinks of my favourite Starbucks goodies.

 

“It's delicious,” he mumbles, and a huge smile spreads across my face.

 

Long minutes go by as we're eating in the park, birds singing and warm sunshine pouring down on us. The brunette sitting next to me frowns and flinches from time to time when one or two louder passers come by, his jaw clenches and his steely blue eyes are scanning the surroundings all the way.

 

But besides those weird and unsettling parts, this little date is rather lovely.

 

At least it is, until he speaks up.

 

“I'm going abroad.”

 

The unexpected confession makes my insides twitch and my heart fills up with a ridiculous amount of sadness.

 

Why does this hurt me this much? We’ve only met three times and I don't even know his name, it's not like we're in a relationship or something.

 

“Where?” I ask, trying to hide my disappointment and hoping that he doesn't have a clue about my aching heart, albeit it must've been really loud when it got broken to pieces by his matter-of-factly spoken words.

 

I look up at him, and he suddenly looks away—he seems a bit guilty and so unsure.

 

“I can't tell. But I'm not coming back.” It's actually ridiculous that I'm feeling this depressed because of a man whose name I don't even know leaves the country. Not that it's my business, we just met by chance.

 

 _Karma_ —my best friend's voice suddenly pops into my head, and I wonder if I'm just too imaginative or this really must be destiny.

 

“Well, I just wish you all the best,” I jabber as I stand up quite suddenly, ready to run away (actually I'm already late for work) but he grabs my hand.

 

“Just… Take care of yourself, okay?” Having his hand on my arm I realise that he's wearing gloves—in summer—and suddenly I remember how the mugger stabbed his left arm back then and the knife broke into two. Same left arm is holding mine now, and I can't help but feel curious and _thrilled_.

 

“You too.”

 

And those were the last words I said to him with a sad smile on my face.

  
  
  


I kept wondering for two years if those incidents really happened at all—I didn't tell my best friend anything about the attacker or my second and third meeting with the handsome, yet terrifying stranger, because I just didn't want her to go all hyped about it with fate and all sorts of shits again.

 

When I started to believe that our constant meetings weren't so much accidental and almost believed in destiny, even in the concept of soul mates, he just left and never returned.

 

And I just didn't want my hopes all up and being foolish again.

 

But when watching the TV with my roommate, a sudden news interrupted my best friend’s favourite show, reporting that a bomb went off in Vienna, injuring and even killing many people, I just couldn't ignore gods and karma and fate anymore.

 

“... _officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations. Anyone with information—”_

 

“THIS. IS. JUST. CRAZY.” My best friend turns the TV off and I've never been more grateful.

 

My heart pounding I felt like passing out when I saw the suspect on that video—it was _him_. The stranger homeless I gave a little money to two years prior, and the same man who saved me from eventually being raped a few weeks after that. The same guy who I had Starbucks in a park with two years ago.

 

I haven't seen him since our last encounter, but in secret, I was always hoping to just bump into him somewhere in the city.

 

Like we used to.

 

Now he's appeared on the news, and he is apparently a full-fledged member of a psycho organisation everyone fears and appears to be an assassin.

 

_“I'm going abroad.”_

 

_“A bomb ripped through the UN building in Vienna…”_

 

I knew he said he was leaving the country and it sure surprised me how he could've had funds to do that but not in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that he'd travel across the globe in order to kill people.

 

“What's wrong?” My best friend asks. “Your face is so pale, holy shit, you look like a vampire…”

 

On other occasions, her stupid sense of humour would crack me up, but not this time.

 

“I'm just… These kind of things make me sick, you know how much I can't stand violence.” And apparently I've said the truth, right?

 

I remember well how _murderous_ he was when he almost killed my attacker on that night. Thinking back to that, my stomach just twists and I feel like I'm about to throw up.

 

“I need to get some fresh air,” I storm out to the balcony, leaving her quite intrigued and confused about my behaviour, and I'm starting to feel sorry about keeping that many secrets from her—she's like my sister—but if you're acquainted with an infamous assassin, you just don't gloat and brag about that, right?

 

Because it makes you fucking guilty. Like you were his partner in crime.

 

And guilty I was feeling in the upcoming few days, I just couldn't walk down the streets and do grocery shopping without thinking that people actually _knew_ that I helped a wanted assassin multiple times. Whenever sirens went off, harshing through the air, my body flinched, salty drops dripping down my forehead as I was expecting the police or even the Avengers come and get me for my crimes.

 

But no one came for me, although that didn't make me feel better even after another news interrupted our Stargate marathon a few days after, coming from Everett K. Ross of the Joint Counter Terrorist Center himself.

 

_“Evidence coming from unnamed source eventually proved that James Buchanan Barnes hasn't been responsible for the bombing in Vienna.”_

 

And with that declaration, reporters just lost their heads and the whole press room exploded.

 

_“But what about the video footage that was released earlier this week, clearly showing the Winter Soldier appearing on the scene before the bomb went off?”_

 

_“Is Barnes still charged with all those assassinations he's credited with over the last seventy years?”_

 

_“How can we know it's really James Buchanan Barnes when he died in 1945, is it some secret government project making super soldiers and defy ageing and death?”_

 

_“What happened to the Avengers? Where's Captain America now?”_

 

...on which Ross simply commented: _“Ladies, gentlemen. All your questions will be addressed soon. But at the current state of our investigations about the case I can't state anything else. Thank you for your time.”_

  


My whole body shaking, I just cannot look away from the screen, staring at it like I've been hypnotised even after the broadcast of the conference has ended and the regular programme is back on TV.

 

_Died in 1945? Credited with a dozen assassinations in the last seventy years?_

 

The man sure looked older than me, but I never expected that age gap to be seventy years or so.

 

“I just googled this guy,” my best friend breaks the silence. “Holy shit, it's true, he was born in 1917, you've gotta see this—”

 

“Apparently, I don't want to,” I interrupt her coolly, only drawing her attention on myself, she's staring at me in confusion.

 

“But—”

 

“I don't care, okay?” And I just leave her in the living room, heading for my own room and shutting the door with a loud thundering slap.

 

I may have told my friend that I don't care, but lying on my bed I just can't think about anything else. I should be happy that he's innocent after all, but I'm still feeling guilty—thick conscience tearing up my insides because I really believed that it was him, I really thought that he was in Vienna and he did all that.

 

It's all so silly though, like I don't even know him apart from that few occasions we met, I still feel like I should've known that it wasn't him. He sure had his issues—I've seen his aggressive side up close—but he showed mercy to the person assaulting me, and looking in his eyes that sheltered so many emotions, I kind of feel like I still betrayed him, believing all that about Vienna instantly.

 

_“I'm not coming back.”_

 

Warm tears roll down my cheeks as I recall his words. I knew I wouldn't see him again, but still, I wish I could just meet him once more, and…

 

And what would I do exactly? Tell him that I feel awful for thinking that he was a terrorist? Apologising for that would only make me crazier. Because he was a terrorist indeed, the part where he was said to be an assassin was still true.

 

I never searched for him after I got to know his name because I was too scared to do so. On one hand, I was scared to find out who he was for real, on the other hand, I was just too damn paranoid to enter his name into the search bar on my phone or on computer, because I suspected that the FBI would just come for me if I did so.

 

But if I come to think about it, it's all my best friend's fault. I really lost my mind believing her that our meeting was fate and all that shit, because I wouldn't be crying my heart out like this if I had been smart enough not to listen to her dreamy nonsense.

  


I allowed myself feeling pity for myself and cry for a few hours until I eventually fell asleep, so that I could just cleanse my mind and forget about all of this. I really needed to get my life together, and maybe it was time for me to accept that coworker’s invitation and go out on dinner with him.

 

But apparently, destiny had a different call, and just didn't leave me be.

  
  


Weak sunshine radiates through the chilly autumn air as I'm doing my usual morning run in the park. Listening to music and completely lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the random person ahead of me, and I just ran into them.

 

“I'm sorry,” I apologise, pulling my earphones out. “It really was…” Raising my pinky cheeks and looking up at the person, only to see steely blue eyes staring down at me, I can feel my heart wildly beating against my ribcage. “...my fault…”

 

It's _him_ , he's just here again, coming out of nowhere, only to haunt me one more time before he disappears like a ghost all over again.

 

The world revolving around I don't know what to say, what to do. Is it really him? Am I dreaming?

 

_Yeah, Karma sure loves fucking with me._

 

“I came to give back the money you lent me and pay back the meal you bought me back then.” And he just gently takes my hand with his right arm—and he's not wearing gloves for the first time, our skin touching, making my heart rate double, and he just puts the money in my palm, wrapping my cold fingers around it.

 

“And what about the interest?” My shaky voice escapes from my throat, making him confused. “Two years have passed…”

 

First I was just being silly and joking, and only half serious, but I just couldn't hide my sadness anymore and not tell him that two fucking long years still happened, and he just can't continue to play with me like this, appearing and disappearing from time to time, wrecking me completely.

 

“I—I didn't think about that…” He confesses guiltily, and he just warms up my chest looking like a stray and confused puppy all over again. “But take this.” He suddenly leans down and just kisses my cheek, making my heart eventually stop.

 

Having his soft lips on my skin only lasted for a couple of seconds, but it started a wild storm inside me, raging in me with full force and I knew I was completely compromised with this guy.

 

“I need to go now…” He then stabs me in the heart with his words again. “I need to… have a certain medical treatment before I could invite you for that pizza and ice cream. I know I shouldn't have come but I just wanted to give your money back finally.”

 

 _I needed to see you_ , his eyes say.

 

Seeing that he still remembers when I suggested further dates with him makes my eyes all teary, and he doesn't miss that.

 

“Don't cry,” he wipes away one teardrop that unavoidably escaped from my eye. “I will come back for you.” And his lips are on mine, soft and gently, his stubble poking against my skin, and it lasts more than just a few seconds.

 

Lost in the moment, I automatically put my arms around him, and when I realise that his left arm is missing, I stupidly flinch, interrupting the kiss, and I curse myself as he leans away.

 

“The next time we meet, I wanna be the man you deserve,” he whispers quietly, light wind almost blowing his words away before I can catch them. I blink once and he's just gone, leaving me there with aching heart but…

 

...with strong, resilient faith as well.

 

“But you already are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because I really took the wrong bus on June 21, 2016 and all that shit happened missing my actual ride home (the rainy part was a week or two before that, and I was going to work when the cruel weather hit me, so I even had to buy new clothes in order to get through the day, lol) but I'm actually grateful for it, because this fic would never have been written if I hadn't been a complete idiot on that day, and hadn't taken the wrong bus.
> 
> Also, thanks for my bestie coming up with the idea of fate and karma, she basically ignited the whole thing and inspired me to write this. So thank you, boo, for being my beta and muse. <3


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